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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28810335">Revive-oli</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HealthKitt/pseuds/HealthKitt'>HealthKitt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, POV Third Person, also unedited so enjoy it, au kohga is still a loveable goof but also secretly a nerd, fair warning: i tend not to finish fics, if it doesn't make sense consider that a bonus, in which the yiga pop ravioli into the microwave for 100 years, oc: neriz of the yiga, oc: zorsis of the yiga, one day this will be enemies to friends, so i just kind of kept going with it, this was once the start to an rp that fell through, yiga siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:40:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28810335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HealthKitt/pseuds/HealthKitt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One hundred years ago, the Sheikah laid the Princess's dearest knight to rest within a resurrection shrine on the Great Plateau, and all of Hyrule held its breath as their princess held the Calamity at bay.<br/>Then the Yiga tossed Revali into another one and decided their descendants could sort out what to do with an angry undead bird later.</p><p>This is the start of that story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Revali &amp; Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Revive-oli</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Between all the dust stirred up by the rampage of Vah Naboris and the daily sandstorm surrounding the Great Cliffs, Neriz couldn’t see more than ten, maybe fifteen feet ahead. She wasn’t entirely sure she could breathe, either, but the fact that she was still trailing along after the others spoke to the contrary. Her brother, at least, seemed to know where he was going; he was at the front of their little patrol, striding with purpose in every step. Had she not known this was just what Zorsis was <i>like</i>, she might have thought he could walk this path with his eyes closed.</p><p>The lizalfos, too, made this a bit of a nightmare. A variety of them took up shelter along these cliffs, and so periodically one would leap from the depths of the sand or the storm and try to kill Neriz with both their spears and a heart attack. Between herself, her brother, and the silent Yiga Blademaster that accompanied them, they were generally dispatched quickly enough afterwards, but that didn’t make the initial (and repeated!) shock any less exhausting.</p><p>“Are we absolutely, one-hundred percent sure this is going to be worth it?” She called out ahead, scratching beneath the paper mask of her uniform in an attempt to dislodge some of the sand that had crept into her clothes.</p><p>“No.” Zorsis said, and was content to leave it at that. She hadn’t expected anything different, really - they’d grown quite distant as adults, with him so deeply devoted to becoming <i>more</i> than faceless fodder - but it hadn’t hurt to try.<br/>
And it wouldn’t hurt to try again, would it? “But why? I mean, bringing back the dead is cool and all,” And probably super illegal, right? There weren’t any guards to enforce the law these days, not outside of the cities, but the idea of breaking the rules was still a little fun. She relished in that thought for a moment - it wasn’t like the others would bother to interrupt her - before she forged on, “But he’s supposed to be one of the Champions. A <i>’hero’</i>. Are we about to get murdered? Because if we are, I was really hoping it’d be somewhere, you know, a little nicer. Guess it provides its own burial, though.”</p><p>“The Sheikah were considered heroes once, too.” Zorsis spoke again, and though his voice was quiet, at least he was speaking. The idea of death seemed to draw that out of him, leading Neriz to believe that he maybe did care if she died, probably. Maybe.</p><p>He wasn’t wrong, either; a very long time ago, the Sheikah had made their stand against Ganon by creating the Divine Beasts. With four Champions backing the princess’s appointed knight, they’d sealed the Calamity away - until a hundred years ago, anyway. And in the time since their first success, since the Sheikah’s ingenuity had saved all of Hyrule, they’d been shunned until they abandoned their creations, burying them deep beneath the ground just to be treated with respect and trust once more. Some had refused, however, and bore their ostracization in favor of their pride and self-respect. Those had been the Yiga.</p><p>A hundred years ago, though, with the Calamity stirring, the tune of Hyrule changed. The Calamity was back, and so it was time to dig up the Divine Beasts once more, that they could serve Hyrule again. The plan hadn’t worked out so well the last time, of course, but the insult stood: the moment they were needed, Hyrule forgot what they had done to the Sheikah.<br/>
The Yiga did not forget, however, and so there was a certain delicious irony that came with ‘digging up’ one of their abandoned Champions and using him again once Hyrule threw him away. He’d been with the second wave of Champions, the pilot of Vah Medoh.</p><p>“But they didn’t turn him out, did they?” Neriz asked. “I mean...He did make it to a Shrine, after all.”</p><p>“Our Shrine. One-hundred years ago, a Yiga Master made an investment. We’re collecting on it. But yes, we could ‘get murdered’.” Zorsis stopped to look at her, and though she couldn’t see beneath his mask, she could absolutely feel his exhaustion coming off in waves. Ever since they’d heard of the Hero’s revival - still only a rumor, but given what they knew, probably a true one - he’d been pushing the other Yiga to train harder, to search farther, and, of course, pushing himself the hardest.</p><p>He was tired, and she was asking questions because she’d wandered off while he trained. Neriz ducked her head a little out of instinct, as if she were a guilty child rather than a skilled footsoldier in her own right. She was allowed on her own patrols because she <i>could</i> do things when she tried.<br/>
Zorsis just did more.</p><p>“And...You brought me?” She asked next. Zorsis knew how much (or how little) she contributed by comparison, and so she assumed that was why she was generally left out of the ‘important’ missions. Sure, there was probably some element of him worrying for her safety, but he wasn’t so worried as to not bring her along for this.</p><p>“You were nearby.” Zorsis replied flatly.<br/>
“Oh.” That was a little disappointing. Couldn’t he have at least lied?<br/>
“Besides,” He turned to walk ahead again, voice going low as he grew sardonic, “You’re good at making friends.”<br/>
Oh, there it was again: the guilt.</p><p>So she tended to make a little more smalltalk than absolutely necessary while out on patrols! And yeah, sometimes she forgot about the ‘robbing’ part of the encounters. But who could really blame her? Everyone in the Yiga she’d essentially grown up with. Was it really so bad to try to meet more people?<br/>
It was very clearly <i>that</i> which Zorsis had a problem with, and not any kind of mutual abandonment issues going on that she was very aggressively ignoring. Nope, no way.</p><p>“Well, good! I’ll see if he wants to play cards while he’s, you know, stabbing us a bunch.” Neriz scoffed, then looked to the blademaster accompanying them and asked, “Can you believe this?”<br/>
The blademaster turned their head towards her, but said nothing.<br/>
“...Creepy.” Neriz muttered.<br/>
“If the legends are anything to go by,” Zorsis deadpanned, “He’s an archer. You can ask if he wants to play cards while he <i>shoots at you.</i>”<br/>
“Great. Thanks.” Neriz put both hands under the mask this time, to drag her hands down over her face and...Yeah, that just rubbed sand in her eyes. Today was just getting better and better.</p><p>“And if the ancient texts are correct, a potential side effect of the resurrection process is amnesia.” Zorsis added. “If we’re lucky.”<br/>
Right. That sure sounded lucky, on account of the fact that it would mean that he had no idea how to use a bow and was totally useless to them. Neriz let out the air through her nose, but didn’t say it aloud; it wasn’t Zorsis that had made this plan, either. He was just seeing it through, like he always did.</p><p>Six artifacts of eras past, all guarded by the peak of Sheikah ingenuity.<br/>
They’d need a Champion chosen by the blood of the goddess to cross into the still-holy grounds of those temples, and if they were lucky that same Champion had been laid to rest by their ancestors with an additional boon: a Sheikah Slate, a shortcut to all manner of spells and tricks once passed down by the Sheikah but practiced now by only the masters.<br/>
It was that which Neriz was truly interested in. A resurrected Champion could betray them at the drop of a hat, but technology was easily deciphered and understood.<br/>
She knew that better than most, even as a member of the clan that swore fealty to the horrible Calamity that had infected the Guardians. She didn’t even notice that they’d gotten close, she was so wrapped up in the feeling of warm stone beneath her fingertips as one hand of flesh reached up to lightly caress the surface of the other -- the latter being of that same earthy material that made of the guardians, small stones and cores glittering with life and power. It looked like a gauntlet.<br/>
It wasn’t.<br/>
Though Zorsis wouldn’t ever say it, there was a good chance that, too, had contributed to his decision to bring her along; her history with the prosthetic arm had led her to a deeper understanding of that ancient technology than many other of the Yiga, even with what they had managed to retain. She’d peered over Kohga’s shoulder at many a puzzling old relic as a child, begged Sooga to overlook her slinking into their stores of decrepit relics on so many late nights.<br/>
They’d let her, and it had done her well; she knew how the arm worked and, if things went awry, might know how to fix this resurrection shrine as well.<br/>
Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but the Yiga knew all too well the foolishness of relying on hope alone.</p><p>“We’re here.” Zorsis came to a stop just before her, and so Neriz nearly walked into his back. She backpedaled a few steps, but it didn’t escape the view of their stoic third, who had absolutely just seen that. Neriz’s face grew red under the mask; she wasn’t even sure which of the others this blademaster was, and at this point she was pretty sure it was rude to ask.<br/>
Hopefully it wasn’t anyone important.</p><p>The shrine itself was located at the end of a meandering but not terribly long path between two cliff faces, where Neriz couldn’t help but wonder what they would have done if they’d collapsed in the past hundred years since this Champion had died. Would they have had to dig him up, or bomb him out? Could he have died a second time? None of this seemed very thoroughly thought-out.</p><p>Soon they saw that familiar material that made up all of the ancient Sheikah tech, making an archway into a cave. Neriz felt her fingertips positively itching the moment that she laid eyes on those glowing lines and raised patterns, but tried to will the feeling away; there wasn’t time for dealing with that now, and Zorsis had it covered.</p><p>“...This is supposed to be a door.” Zorsis observed.<br/>
“Well, looks like a door to me.” Neriz stretched her arms up over her head, then folded her hands on the back of her neck.<br/>
“No, I mean this is supposed to be shut.” He turned back towards her as the words sank in.</p><p>“So...We lost our Champion in a sandstorm before we even met him?” Neriz asked with raised brows.<br/>
“No.” Zorsis put his hand beneath his mask, now, probably to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “...Maybe. Neri, search inside. You,” He gestured to the blademaster, “Come with me to check the vicinity. He can’t have gone far. Disguises on, everyone; don’t fail at this before we’ve begun.”</p><p>‘Neri’.<br/>
The use of the nickname spoke volumes in those two syllables alone. It said, ‘Please don’t argue with me. We don’t have time, just do what I’m asking’.</p><p>Neriz bit her tongue, but watched the pair of them go and then reluctantly clasped her hands together in three quick symbols, the rapid succession focusing her mind and her magic into shape. With a puff of red smoke, her appearance was changed.<br/>
Though she kept her hair and skin fairly dark - she’d startled herself with too vast a change before - her eyes now shone with a warm amber color rather than that bright, sharp red for which the Sheikah and Yiga were known. She tried to favor small changes, lest her actions give her away, but the plan hinged on her believably passing as a Hylian treasure hunter rather than a Yiga traitor. Even a hint of their true selves might spark a memory in even an amnesiatic Champion, and that spelled doom for their plan - and presumably for their bodies as well.<br/>
And treasure hunter she did look like, albeit one poorly equipped. There was a quiver strapped to her lower back - one she did actually have, in fact - with few arrows, but no bow, nor any other sort of weapon for that matter. Had she actually intended to travel like this, it might have been a problem to cross paths with any monsters…<br/>
But in reality, all she needed to do was drop the illusion, and they’d be held at bay. Ganon’s ilk knew their own.<br/>
With a quick glance over herself, she took in a deep breath, nodded to herself, and tentatively began to walk into the archway that had once been a door.<br/>
Man, did she regret thinking about those rockslides now.</p><p>“Hello?” She called out tentatively, because that was what people always did in the stories right before they got horribly murdered.<br/>
It was just a hallway, though, with a room at the end...And an open doorway at her back. No problem!<br/>
What was his name, again?<br/>
“Revive...Oli?”</p><p>Every step echoed off of the walls of this place, ricocheting from stone to wall to ceiling and back again until it began disorienting. Whether she stood on sand or stone, the noise was grating, trapped in this half-buried hall. She’d have to rely on her sight to pick up on any movement, and with the soft glow of the stones in the walls casting cones of pinks and blues and the brightness of the desert outside, it wasn’t going to be easy.<br/>
She thought she saw a shadow shift, even held her breath and stared as hard as she could to will it into focus. But then there was nothing. With a tentative step, she cocked her head to peer forward into the dark room at the end of the hall--<br/>
And found something underfoot that was neither stone nor sand.</p><p>Neriz glanced down, then did a double-take; it was an eye staring back at her.<br/>
A Sheikah eye, to be precise, adorning some sort of box so thin she might have thought it was a journal. She glanced ahead again, then slowly crouched down to slide her fingers beneath it. Skin touched glass, and her heart nearly skipped a beat as she slowly, tentatively turned it over.<br/>
A blue ring appeared in the center of the glass as she turned it to face her, then began to shift and spin into a new symbol, a version of that same eye looking back at her from within the Sheikah Slate.<br/>
<i>Authenticating User…</i></p><p>“Eh?” Neriz squinted, then gently prodded at it.<br/>
Nothing happened.<br/>
“Now what are you doing out here..?” She murmured to the technology. “I could have stepped on you. You could have--”<br/>
She’d been too focused on the screen, hadn’t seen the shadows move again. A shameful thing, for an assassin to be caught unawares and yet she found herself stumbling back as something before her abruptly pushed her back and to the side, pinning her to the wall with one blue feathered hand (could the ends of a Rito’s wing be called that?) while the other wielded one of her own arrows like a knife, pinned to her throat.<br/>
In a blind panic, the Yiga shifted her grip to the handle of the Sheikah Slate and swung, nailing him directly on the dark-tipped beak and sending the Rito stumbling back with a muttered curse before he recovered his dignity and tried to stand up straight.<br/>
He was wobbling, she realized. Was he keeping his body language so lofty to belie his resurrection-fresh weakness, or was he just...<i>Like</i> that? She coudln't tell.</p><p>One green eye glittered before her, narrowed and suspicious as the Rito peered at her with his head cocked to the side like a hawk eyeing prey.<br/>
“Don’t tell me the Yiga have grown so desperate as to pick up my <i>trash.</i> I’d say that even <i>you</i> are better than that, but...<i>Well.</i>” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his beak in a sarcastically sympathetic manner. </p><p>His voice was angry as well as lofty, arrogant, and a little smug to boot, and Neriz was bewildered by how suddenly and intensely she wanted to knock him off-kilter...But he’d gotten there first; he knew she was a Yiga. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in surprise and confusion. “How did you--”<br/>
The Rito scoffed. “Please. You disguised yourself in broad daylight in front of the door. You could have at least offered a <i>challenge.</i> What was the plan here, exactly? Knock me out, drag me to some cave, and then..?”<br/>
He glanced towards the door, expression shifting to more curiosity; he heard something she didn’t.<br/>
“I must commend you, at least, for knowing that you wouldn’t be able to take me on directly.” He remarked, eye flicking back to keep her pinned to the wall where his stolen weapon could not.. “After all, I <i>am</i> - let's be perfectly frank - leagues above. Often literally.”</p><p>He didn’t know.<br/>
He didn’t know he’d died.</p><p>“Um. Right. Do you...” She glanced towards the door towards the desert again, then back to him with the Sheikah Slate still clutched in hand. “Like cards?”</p><p>“...Excuse me?”</p>
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